Swimming in Red
by TygerTygerCrimsonTears
Summary: AUish. On the final chase for Red John, Grace is a victim of the car crash of the century. As she recovers slowly, she needs to learn how to deal with flashbacks, the death of two of her closest friends, and a catonic Cho. Epilogue up!
1. Chapter 1: Beep

**[A/N: I have no idea where I got the idea to this story. it won't be entirely realistic, because...well, I don't know. Sigh.**

**Disclaimer: I'm a girl.]**

Chapter One: Beep

Beep.

It's the fist thing she hears. An electronic, steady, noise. Then snoring. She recognizes that snore. Wayne? Is Wayne here, where ever she is?

Beep.

Grace tried to open her eyes. Why won't they open? Is she dreaming? Where is she?

Beep.

It turns into a lullaby, the snoring, the beeping. It lulls her back to sleep.

Beep.

Nightmares. Always nightmres.

**Xxxx**

_She climbs in the passenger seat, watching the other grim-faced woman beside her. Grace doesn't know what they are doing, but she thinks her dream self Does. The dream shifts. _

_They're speeding down a neighborhood road, chasing something. She thinks. A car. A red car. Grace remembers now, she remembers. _Stop! _she wants to scream. _It's a trap!_ But her dream self is silent._

_And then, the collision._

Xxxx

Beep.

She wakes up for real this time. Her eyes flutter open, and she gazes around, feeling an odd, serene calm. The beeping is still there, though. Still there. She watches Wayne sleep. Grace tries to speak, to wake him, but somthing is stopping her. She tries to reach up to her throat, but her hands feel heavy, sluggish. All she can do is sit, listening.

Beep.

And watching. Grace can watch. She gazes around the room, understanding where she is now. But why? Why is she in a hospital? Her heart is pounding in her ears, the same tempo of the machine.

Beep-thump. Beep-thump.

The snoring is suddenly cut off, and Grace tries to jerk her gaze back to Rigsby. But her head won't move, only her eyes. She can only watch him through the corners.

Beep-thump.

"Grace?" Wayne's voice is raspy, in a rough whisper.

_I'm here. _Grace wants to tell him. _I'm okay._

**[A/N: Thanks for reading! Sorry it was short, future chapters will be longer.**

**Excerpt from the next chapter: "If you don't tell me now, I swear I'll ask Brenda Shettrick."]**


	2. Chapter 2: Survivor

**[A/N: So the season five premiere is rumoured to be titled "Every Rose Colored Bead." I friggin can't wait! Also, in this following chapter Grace may seem slightly OOC at the beginning. The reason? She's changed. Even though she doesn't remember what really happened (she forgets her dreams when she wakes up) yet, she is still changed.**

**Many thanks to my first reviewer, GraceVanPeltFan4ever! You have no idea how much your review means to me. :) This chapter is dedicated to you!**

**Diclaimer: Still a girl...]**

**Chapter Two: Survivor**

The day Grace moved to a regular hospital room was probably the best day of her life, after having the venilator removed. Looking back on it, she realized how pathetic it must have sounded when she told Wayne, "The sun is shining through my window, the birds are faintly chirping, and I'm leaving the ICU!"

But, in her defense, she _was_ heavily medicated.

Wayne had just smiled and laughed. Van Pelt was used to his different laugh now. It was more nervous, and she could tell he was hiding something.

And so, the day after moving, she tentatively asked him, "Wayne?...Why has no one else come to visit me?" Well, nobody in her team. Her room at the time was full of balloons, stuffed animals, and flowers from other friends, and even family. But she wanted to ee Jane's cheerful grin, Cho's slight smirk, and Lisbon's small but joyful smile. Then, and only then is when she would know everything would be all right.

And when he spoke, Wayne's voice shook. "I think it's time for you to rest now, Grace."

"No! Tell me!"

"Look, just drop it. Okay?" he muttered something Grace couldn't hear and stood up, exiting the hospital room.

And she did. For now.

Xxxx

The next week, Grace brought it back up. "Tell me now, or I swear I'll ask Brenda Shettrick next time she comes to visit."

Wayne stiffened, not needing to ask what she meant.

"I deserve to know...Rigsby." Grace used his last name to let him know she meant business.

"Cho can't handle it right now." Wayne started.

"And?"

"Look Grace, I don't think this is either the time or place..."

"I," she paused to cough, "don't much care."

"Jeez, for an injured woman, you sure are demanding."

Grace didn't reply, waiting.

"Grace, we were chasing Red John. You and Lisbon were in the same vehicle...Grace, you were in an accident. a car accident."

"Oh! I understand. Lisbon's in a different room, and Jane has been spending all his time with her. Right, Wayne? Right?" Wayne didn't meet her eyes. "Wayne?"

Silence.

"Grace..." he took her hand. "The other car...it crushed your car into a power line. Fire, Grace." he stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. "The car lit on fire. You would have died if you hadn't been thrown on impact. And the car...it exploded.

"Boss is dead, Grace. She's dead."

_No, _Black circles swam before her eyes. _No! No, no, no..._Tears rose up, blurring her gaze.

_No... I can't be true. But it is...He wouldn't lie about something like this. He wouldn't... No..._

"And...Jane...?" Grace choked out. "What about...Patrick?"

"Jane...well, Jane, he...well, to start, we got Red John." Wayne squeezed her hand. "But when Jane...when Jane found out boss was dead, and you were in critical condition..." Grace felt Wayne's hands shaking. "And on top of him not being the one to pull the trigger... Well, it was too much for him, Grace. Jane commited suicide. He's, he's gone, too..."

And that was when Grace lost it. she sat up straight in bed, throwing up all over her lap and Wayne and her's clasped hands.

With his not covered with puke hand, Wayne stroked her hair, shakily calling for a nurse then whispering, "It's going to be okay, Grace. It's going to be okay..."

And Grace said a small prayer in her heart, as the doctors and nurses rushed in.

_Dear God, _

_Why me? Why, why, why?_

**[A/N: Excerpt from next chapter:**

**"'Take it away, please. Just take it away.' she squeezed her eyes shut. 'I'm not ready to see, not yet.'"]**


	3. Chapter 3: Reflection

[A/N:** Thanks to the two who reviewed! Your reviews mean so much to me.**

**Disclaimer: I (don't) own the Mentalist or any of its characters.]**

**Chapter Three: Reflection**

When the tears were dried, the puke long cleaned up, Grace felt ready to look at herself for the first time. Sure, she'd seen her arms and legs, had felt the top of her head with gentle fingers. She had a long scar from her right ear to the base of her neck on the last side. Her hair, once shaved off, now was a little longer than a pixie cut, to the tops of her ears.

But she wanted to look at her face, her neck. She wanted to see, wanted to study her face. Ee the scars, the cuts. She was ready.

"Are you sure about this?" RWayne asked when Grace asked for a mirror.

"Yes. I'm sure."

But, when Rigsby came back in with a doctor and a mirror, Grace was havin second feelings. It was Wayne's worried face that she elt confirmed it. She as not going to look at her face today. So, when the nurse crouhed by her bed, she clenched her fists slightly.

"No," she squeezed her eyes shut, "I don't want to see myself. Not yet. Not yet."

Rigsby was relieved. The doctor was frustrated.

And all Grace coul think was, _Am I really that grotesque?_

_****_**[A/N: Tha tmight just be the shortest thing I have ever written that isn't a drabble. Superbly sorry it was so short, I wanted a smooth transition for the next chapter, where something big and amazing happens.]**


	4. Chapter 4: You're With Me

[A/N:** Just a side note, there is no Sarah Harrigan in this story.**

**Disclaimer: Hi. How are you. Do you own the Mentalist? Me neither.]**

**Chapter Four: You're with Me**

The day Grace was released from the hospital was the day she had her first flashback. She was being wheeled down the hallway by Wayne, with a nurse walking on either side of her. When wayne had told her lter, he said that she just gasped, then started shaking. But, in Grace's perspective, a whole scene played out.

_She was at the office, her office. She glanced at the grim faces around her, her team's serious faces. When bossspeaks, the words seem muffled, garbled. But Grace can till make it out._

_"Rigsby, Cho, you take Jane," Grace (and most likely everyone else, Grace realizes) knew that this was because even Lisbon's persuasiveness wouldn't be able to hold back Jane. Maybe, though, just maybe. Cho and Rigsby's brue strength could hold him back._

_Maybe._

_"Van Pelt, you're with me," Boss continued. _

_You're with me._

_You're with me. _

Though, when Grace broke out of her trance this time, she remebered evrything. And she knew the words "You're with me" would haunt her forever.

Wayne had comforted her while the nurses worriedly took her blood pressure, her temperature. But he had made a mistake. He had said, "Don't worry, Grace. Open your eyes. It's okay. Just look at me. It's me, Wayne Rigsby. It's okay, you're with me."

And she sobbed, sobbed for everything, for everyone.

But, with much convincing and begging (and pleading), she was still released the same day.

And she still had not seen her reflection.

Still wasn't ready to see.

And she knew as she was loaded into the car, Wayne's car, that life would never be the same again. She had finally faced reality.

"Hey," Wayne's voice cut through the silence. "You all right? You haven't said anything since we started driving..."

"No, Wayne." a tear leaked out of her eye. "I'm not all right, okay?" The silence invited her to continue. "I'm never going to be okay. They're _dead, _Wayne. And they _aren't _coming back."

Wayne, keeping his eyes on the road, replied simply, "I know, Grace. I know."

But Grace didn't say anything else, just stared out the window, mourning. Then, shakily, she asked, "Wayne...just how 'not ready' is Cho?"

**[A/N: Excerpt from next chapter:**

**"'Cho? Cho! Speak to me!' but he didn't. She backed away, towards the door, a choke escaping from her. 'I'm done.' she said aloud. 'Get me out of here.']**


	5. Chapter 5: Cho

**Diclaimer: I don't own the Mentalist or any of it's characters.**

**Chapter Five: Cho**

Grace solemnly stared straight through the window, not feeling like she was ready to visit Cho. She clearly recalls the day she had lest the hospital two weeks earlier...

_"Well, you know Cho..." Wayne had said. "He's a tough nut to crack." Grace had nodded, familiar with her colleague's stony ways. "And, you see...He cracked..." Wayne's voice had broken._

_And Grace had understood._

_She had not only lost two friends to death, she had also lost another to himelf._

__Cho was the very last person that Grace would ever expect to go see in a mental hospital, she decided. The very least.

But here she was now, signing in with Wayne's help.

And here she was now, slipping into a room where Kimball Cho sat, still, not even blinking.

And so Grace walked over to him. "Hi, Cho." She tried to keep her voice cheerful, pleasant.

Cho gave no recognition she was there.

"You see, Cho," Grce continued, "I'm so glad I could see you-" her voice broke off, and she choked back her tears. She gently touched his shoulder. "Cho?"

Nothing.

She knelt before him, clasping his hands. "Speak to me, Cho! Please!" but he didn't. She backed away towards the door. "i want out," she said aloud. "Get me out of here."

And they did.

And Grce cried.

And Cho didn't do much as blink.

[A/N Sorry for another short chapter, next one will be really long...

Excerpt from next chapter:

'"I'm Thomas," the man grinned, and Grace couldn't help but smile back, much to Wayne's displeasure."


	6. Chapter 6: Office

**[Thank you, thank you, thank you to mamcrime25 and GraceVanPeltFanForever for eviewing. :) You guys are awesome!**

**GUESS WHAT! Google "The Crimson Ticket." (if you already haven't xD). It's...amazing...**

**Haha, I was tempted to call this chapter "And Then There was Fluff" because it's REAL fluffy. xD But I decided against it because it's only fluffy for, like, a little bit.**

**By the way, I suggest litening to the song "Sillouhette" by Owl City whilst reading this chapter.]**

**Disclaimer: What I said last chapter.**

**Chapter Six: Office**

Grace was, at first, excited and a little thrilled to be visiting the CBI for the first time since...since. But now, as Wayne helped her out of the car, she was feeling nervous. She realized, for the first time, that things wouldn't be the same in her unit (not that it was her unit anymore, who can call it a unit when thee of the agents...).

But somthings weren't different at CBI. There was still Hightower, still Bertram, still the woman that was always gossiping at the water cooler.

But some were different. No Cho, no Jane, no Lisbon.

But, as she exited the elevator and immdiately started towards her desk, running her fingers over it, she remembered things would always be different, and she has to learn how to deal with it.

One thing she noticed first, was there was someone sitting at Jane's desk. Jane's desk.

And another sitting on Jane's couch. Jane's couch.

And still another, as Grace peered through boss's - _I guess it's Lisbon now, _she thinks - former office's glass windows, sitting at Lisbon's desk. And the couch Jane had given Lisbon - gone.

Wayne, noticing Grace's overwhelmed look, gently took her hand, as an offer of comfort.

As Grace cast her eyes around one more time, she noticed the man sitting on Jane's couch - _Jane's _couch. He was even drinking a _cup of coffee. _- studying her, in a curious way. Grace gave him a dirty look, so naturally (note her sarcasm there, heh), he stood up and walked towards them.

"Hi. I'm Thomas." The man grinned. Grace couldn't help but smile back (the man's charm in both voice and smile was much like Jane's, but more happy, in a sense), much to Wayne's displeasure, which showed when he slightly shifted his weight.

"I'm Grace." Grace replied.

"Well, Grace, have you ever seen how beautiful you are?" And the charm was gone. To Grace, now, this man seemed socially awkward compared to her former friend.

Grace laughed (actually, truthfully, she still hadn't seen her reflection), and Wayne took that as his cue to step in.

Grace slipped out of Wayne's hand and began to walk away, leaving the two agents to their conversation -slash - argument.

As she ran her hand over the counters in the CBI kitchen, she felt dizzy. Quite dizzy. In fact...

_Van Pelt buckled her seatbelt (Safety First! she always reminded herself) and stared ahead grimly. When Lisbon also buckled, Grace took a glance at her face. It was full of vengeance, anger (but if there ever was a righteous anger, this was it) and...sympathy? She wasn't sure._

_And her boss's voice was stone hard when she said, "Let's go catch us a killer."_

Grace inhaled quickly, glacing anxiously around to see if anyone around could tell that she had spaced out. Luckily, no one did.

Wiping a faint tear from her eye_, _Grace rushed away. She knew of only one place that would comfort her.

Xxxx

As she collapsed on the small cot in Jane's attic, Grace panted. Sitting back up, she took a deep breath.

_Now _she understood why Jane loved this place so much.

The air was clear, and the sun shone, or rather, would have shone (the windows were covered with dust and grime) through the windows.

She gently propped open the window, letting the breeze flow in. She spread out her arms, staring at the ceiling.

She felt her friend's essence here, like he was just around the corner, about to try and surprise her.

And her heart almost stopped when she saw what was on the desk.

_[A/N: I'm telling you now: There will be four chapters more of this story. I'll also be posting some oneshot companions of Cho, Lisbon, and Patrick's view of the chase._

Excerpt from next chapter:

"_'Oh, you're the one who was in the car accident!' Grace stiffened, her phony smile waning a little."_


	7. Chapter 7: Teacup

**[This chapter is so awkward fo Grace. xD I had a lot of fun writing it.**

**I do not own the Mentalist or any of it's characters. However, I do own Penny Cooper, Thomas Young, and Yoni Torres.]**

**Chapter Six: Teacup**

It sat there, seeming to be mocking her. Grace doesn't think she would have noticed it if the sun had't hit it just the right way when she opened the window.

It's blue and white china seemed to move, it's handle delicate, yet strong.

Jane's teacup.

Grace sat down at the desk, studying it thoughtfully. She was scared to touch it, scared it would shock her back to reality.

"Grace?" Wayne's voice was heard as he floated down the hall to Jane's attic.

Grace made a split descision, picking up the teacup, tossing the old tea out the window and slipping the cup in her wide jacket pockets just as Wayne opened the door.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah." Grace nodded tersely. Wayne furrowed his brow, curious and worried, but didn't say anything else.

"Come on down and meet the rest of the unit." he said, not really as an invitation, but not a demand either.

Grace followed, feeling the teacup against her hip as she walked. She couldn't believe she had stolen (no, stolen wasn't the right word. Not taken, either. Saved! Now that's good word) Jane's teacup.

But then again, it didn't matter.

It's not like he had any use for it anymore anyway.

**Xxxx**

"Hi! I'm Penny! Penny Cooper!" the copper-headed young agent grinned at her. Grace raised her eyebrows and smiled (although it wasn't real, but Grace feared the freckled agent would be dissapointed if Grace had kept a straight face or frowned).

"I'm Grace."

Penny gasped. "You're Grace Van Pelt?"

Grace nodded, subtely taking her hand away from Penny's, before the brand new (Grace sure hoped she wasn't this...immature when she joined the CBI) agent just about shook her arm out of her socket.

"Oh my Goodness (the young woman had a accent that made her d's sound like t's, making good ness sound like "goot-ness"), you're the one that got in the car accident!" Grace flinched, her phony smile waning slightly.

Wayne stepped beside Grace, brushing against her arm. "Thanks, Cooper." he nodded curtly, and Penny grinned, walking back to her desk.

Grace turned, raising her eyebrows at Wayne.

Wayne just shrugged. "She'll harden up."

Grace was about to reply, when a tall, dirty-blonde woman called from across the room. "Rigsby, don't just dilly-dally arou-" then she saw Grace. "Oh, my." she headed in their direction. "You must be Van Pelt, my new junior agent."

If there was one thing that really rubbed Grace the wrong way, it was somebody treating her like a "new agent." "No offense...boss (she had never said those words to Lisbon, so she couldn't believe they were her first words to her new boss), but I've been with the Serious Crimes Unit for about five years now."

The new boss just ignored what she had said, continuing with, "I'm Yoni Torres, head of he unit. I suspect this is your first day at the office?" Then to Wayne, "Thank you for showing her around, Rigsby."

"Well, actually," Grace started, "I can't start work until after my do-"

"Yes, yes. You'll have this desk here." Torres gestured towards Grace's old desk, taking the red-head's arm and forcefully leading her to it.

"But, boss, I-"

"Now, I need you to search up information on a Samuel Jordan, Talia Jordan's fa-"

"_Would you just listen to me?" _Grace didn't realize she had raisen her voice until every face in the bullpen was watching her, every voice silenced (perhaps Penny's would have been amusing if Grace hadn't been so angry, as her jaw had dropped and so had her coffee, while Thomas merely raised an eyebrow, and Torres seemed shock that her "newest" agent had talked back to her).

Grace swung her head around, taking in everyone's faces, before yanking her arm out of Torres's grasp and rushing away, tears running down her scarred face.

She knew Wayne would follow her, but she was driving away before he was even out the CBI doors.

It was only when she was halfway to her home that she realized she was driving Wayne's van, but she didn't really care.

Not at all.

Xxxx

When she unlocked her apartment, she collapsed on her bed, willing the tears to come. But they didn't, not even a bit.

Grace took Jane's teacup out of her pocket, studying it. She slowly stood, heading over to her kitchenette.

She rinsed out the teacup out, and at the same time vowing to _never _let anyone (including herself) drink out of the teacup. When she was ready, she decided, she would put it by his grave.

But for now, she just placed it on her nightstand. Not spending the time to undress, Grace crawld under her blankets and fell into a deep, dreamless, sleep.

**[I truthfully wanted this to be a fluffy chapter, but the story told me "Must. Write. Annngggssssstttttt." But some of it was, fluffy, right? :D**

**Excerpt from next chapter:**

**"'Oh, and I brought you this just in case you don't have one up there...Can you tell Lisbon hi? I mean, I'm going to go talk to her, too, but I think she might be mad at me because, well, you know.'"**


	8. Chapter 8: Gravestone, Part 1

**[Diclaimer: Nope. Don't own Mentalist.]**

**Chapter Seven: Gravestone Pt. 1**

It had been seven days since Grace had visited the office for the first time, and she was nearly ready to go back to work. Today, however, she was going to do something she knew was going to be tough, but it was still another step in recovery. She was going to go visit Jane and Lisbon.

She always dreamed that she would be visiting them when they were in their seventies and in an old folks home, with Jane still in his vests and Lisbon in floral nightgowns. It was a strange dream, and Grace always imagined them married, too. But now, it didn't seem like any of the redhead's dreams were ever coming true.

But as she pulled into the cemetery parking lot, Grace pushed the thought to the back of her mind. No time for dreaming now.

Being careful not to look in the mirror (she felt like it was a promise to herself that she woudln't look at herself, or fear of, well, everything), she stepped out of her car, patting her loose jacket pocket to make sure the teacup was still there.

Taking a breath and trying to hold back her tears, Grace walked through the gates. First, she floated towards a threesome of tombstones (two she's visited once or twice, one she had always known was there but never thought she's live to see the day when it was done waiting). Quickly skimming her gaze over Angela and Charlotte's graves, her eyes rested on the third.

**Patrick Jane,** it read. **July 30th, 1971 - February 12, 2012. May his soul ever prosper. **Grace let a few tears leak out as she knelt by the tomb, pulling the teacup out of her pocket.

"Hey," she said casually, as though she were greeting Jane in the office one morning instead of talking to his grave. "How are you?" she set down the blue and white teacup where it wouldn't be injured by the lawn mower nor fade too quickly.

"I brought you this just in case you don't have one up there...Can you tell Lisbon hi? I mean, I'm going to go talk to her, too, but I think she might be mad at me because, well, you know." she gulped, and suddenly couldn't stop speaking to the colorful flowers and teddy bears in gray vests decorating the tomb.

"Why'd you have to do this, Jane? Kill yourself? I mean, I _need _you! We could have _helped _each other! Killing yourself didn't help anything! I _needed you_! I mean, you're the only person who truly understand me, Jane. Rigsby loves me and everything, but he doesn't know all of my problems! Boss did, but I never listend to her, and she's _dead _now, Jane. You knew my issues and you knew that you could help me, but you didn't push!

"You promised you wouldn't let him win! And you know what, you broke your promise. He _did _win, Jane. He wanted to ruin your life, and he did swell." she gasped for breath, feeling the salty tears run over her cracked and cry lips.

She slowly stood to her feet, running her fingers across the top of the gravestone. She was angry, sad, and just plain depressed about life. An she didn't know if anything would ever change.

**[A/N: You may have noticed and/or are pissed out that there have been a lot of Grace and Jane chapters lately. This one was going to be mainly a Lisbon chapter, and reeeaaaallllyyyyy long, too, but I couldn't come up with a nice transition. And that is my excuse.**

**Excerpt from next chapter:**

**"'I can't eve nbegin to apologize, boss. I wish I was there with you, but then Wayne would be all alone, you know? I can't leave him with everything. But it still doesn't change that I want to be dead. I'm so sorry I'm not dead...'"**


	9. Chapter 9: Gravestone, Part 2

[I cried when writing this chapter. xD

Disclaimer: Dude. If I owned Mentalist, it would be so messed up...]

Chapter 9: Gravestone Part 2

"I can't even begin to apologize, boss. I wish I was there with you, but then Wayne would be all alone, you know I can't leave him with everything. But it still doesn't change that I want to be dead. I'm so sorry I'm not dead, Lisbon. I'm so, so sorry." Grace was sitting cross legged, stroking the flowers decorating the pretty grave, where Lisbon had been "delivered unto Heaven." Or, that was what the stone said.

Grace didn't know what she would do without her. Lisbon had been the big sister Grace had never had.

She was trying so hard. So hard to remember, so hard to forget. She knew she had to step out, let it go. There was no time to be sad. Life would move on.

But still...life would never move on for Lisbon, or Jane. Maybe not even Cho. Grace couldn't believe that this had happened. "Why me?" she asked out loud.

"Why?" she sobbed into her hands.

"Why what?" a shy, curious voice asked from behind her.

Grace turned to see a small, innocent-looking girl behind her. The girl had loose black ringlets, pale skin, and big, green eyes. Grace couldn't place her finger on it, but the girl looked familiar.

When the girl saw her tears, she knelt down by her. "Don't cry." she said gently, wiping the tears off Grace's cheeks with cold hands and a feathery touch. "It's okay. We' re okay." she patted Grace's hand.

Grace couldn't help but smile. The girl was adorable, and so familiar. She seemed to genuinely care about a woman twenty-five years older than her.

The girl also smiled. There was something about that smile... "You have a beautiful smile." she told Grace shyly.

Then, the girl noticed the tombstone. Reading it, she pronounced, "Tuh-rees-uh Liz-bin. Hey! That's my name!" she grinned at Grace. And the red-head's hazel eyes grew wide.

Then, the girl stood. "I hafta go!" she said. "Coming Mommy!" She called to the sky.

As she ran off in the direction she came, she turned, then waved at Grace. "Bye bye Grace!" she gave a silly grin.

And, as the girl ran off, Grace could have sworn she filled out, her hair shortening and her height lengthening. Until, at last, she turned right before she was out of Grace's sight.

And Grace caught her breath. It was Lisbon.

The brunette blew a slow, sad kiss in Grace's direction, then turned and slowly dissapeared.

Grace watched into the distance for what seemed like forever, not believing what she had just seen.

And then, she collapsed against Lisbon's grave, sobbing.

It was just too much...

**[Excerpt from next chapter (and last. But there'll be an epilogue.):**

**"As she raked her fingers down the scarred, burnt face that she could hardly believe was her own, she remembered. Remembered that night."]**


	10. Chapter 10: Memories

**[So. This is it...A special thanks to those who followed this story...and gazillion thanks to mamacrime25 and GraceVanPeltFan4ever, without whom I probably would have given up a **_**long **_**time ag.**

**Thank you, thank you, thank you to the six of you awesome people.**

**Disclaimer: Bruno Heller doesn't start with a J. My name starts with a J. Therefoe, I am not Bruno Heller.]**

**Chapter Ten: Remember**

Grace lay on her bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. So much had been taken away from her, it seemed.

Lisbon

Jane

Cho.

And in some ways, even Wayne. The man would never see her through the same eyes now that she was frail, weak, scarred.

It was overwhelming, she realized. Very overwhelming. In one second, Red John had taken away a life. That night he had taken another's sanity. The next week, from the grave, he had finally won.

Grace just wished the son of a gun was still alive so she could shoot him in the head.

He had even taken away her face. Not that Grace was shallow enough to admit it, but she missed her good looks. Looks weren't everything, not at all, but now young children would point and stare, and adults would either try not to look at her face or be the same as their chldren.

Grace became drawn over with a wave of need. She _needed _to see her face.

So she proceeded into her restroom, where she ever so careully opened her eyes.

Her mouth opened slightly at the sight of it. Her right eye, untouched, but the skin above her left eyebrow had swelled, and it was a festering red. Her nose had large chunks missing, and the skin around it was also swelled. Her lips, though, were what scared Grace most. She ran a gentle finger over them. They were swollen to the touch, cracked and chapped.

She backed away, wondering, dreaming if she would ever heal. She was...disgusted with herself.

As she raked her fingers down the scarred, burnt face that she could hardly believe was her own, she sobbed, and remembered. Remembered that night.

_There was no speaking in the CBI vehicle as they zoomed out of the parking lot. Grace could hardly imagine they were out to get the infamous Red John_

_Surely something would go wrong?_

_She stole a glance at her boss, studying Lisbon's face. It was stony and solemn, but there was something...off._

_She couldn't tell what it was though. Surely she would ask about it later, after this was all over. _

_As boss switched on the headlights, Van Pelt turned her gaze back to the road. _Keep an eye out fo license plate GHT 374, _she reminded herself._

_And when the dark, blood-red truck broadsided them that same second, Grace was strangely calm. Serene, even, as she felt her seatbelt tear and her body crash though the windshield. As she flw through the air, her last thought before smashing against the street was _Lisbon? Is Lisbon okay?

_And then, she collided with the pavement, sliding a good ten yards before coming to a rest, she stared at the sky, which was lit up like day. She didn't know what from though. Surely she would ask Lisbon later, because of course Lisbon was all right. She was Lisbon. Lisbon was always all right._

_And so, reassured, she shut her eyes._

Grace leaned on her hands, which were propped on either side of the sink. She panted, sarring into the mirror. And then, she retched, filling the sink with her puke.

When she was finished, she rushed into her bedroom, scrambling for her cell phone, pressing one on speed dial.

When he answered, she rasped, "Wayne, I remembered. Come over quick."

He was over before Grace had even prepared their tea.

**[A/N: The first of the oneshots will be up soon...it'll be interesting. Lisbon's POV!**

**Excerpt from next chapter:**

**"TWO YEARS LATER"**

**And if you can guess what was off about Lisbon...huzzah to you!]**


	11. Epilogue: Someday

TWO YEARS LATER

****Grace glanced at the sky, relishing in the bright sunshine and sound of children laughing and playing.

Her children.

She and Wayne had been married for a year and nine months now, and after Grace had been deemed infertile they had looked into adoption. They were now the adoptive parents of two beautiful little girls, Becky from Korea and Ri-Ri from Uganda.

And here she sat, holding hands wth Wayne. Watching Becky and Ri-Ri take turns on the slide.

She remembered the one time when Ri-Ri, only five, had asked Grace why she looked different from her friend's mommies. Grace had bit her bottom lip, not wanting to tell her just yet.

But Becky had taken Ri-Ri aside, and the seven year old explained, "Mommy got hurt when she was helping Uncle Patrick, Ri-Ri," she rolled her eyes. "Duh." Normally Grace would have put Becky in timeout for being sarcastic, but right now she was just relieved.

Someday she would tell the truth to her daughters. about why she is the way she is. Why Uncle Patrick and Aunt Teresa never come to visit. Why Uncle Kimball doesn't speak. Why, every year, for one week in February Mommy and Daddy wear dark clothing and Mommy cries in her bedroom.

Someday.


End file.
